The Dragon
by imjustadreamer
Summary: Abberline's thoughts of the Dragon and his death. Why he has been returning to the den so many times, what keeps him there. Maybe a slight romance, you judge.


Well I have decided to write this, my first and possibly not my last, From Hell fic. I have written it to take a break from The Singing Sparrow coz whilst I love writing, my muse has left me without ideas for it for the time being at least. I shall be carrying The Singing Sparrow on as my muse has returned briefly to let me know of a very possible plot point for a sequel to The Singing Sparrow, so I shall try and update it soon. As it is I have started a new chapter but that's where my muse abandoned me yet again and I am a bit stuck. Those of you who are reading it I thank you for waiting and everyone who has reviewed, and I shall try not to leave you hanging for much longer. Anyway, back to this story. This is just a one shot that came to me one night and I couldn't stop thinking about until I wrote it. I am a bit stuck for a genre so any suggestions would be appreciated. You can do so in a review or contact me via email, which you will find in my profile. The story basically details the thoughts of Abberline as he dies, why he chased the dragon, and the significance for it.

**Disclaimer:** I do not unfortunately own anything from the movie, other than the DVD, and yes, that does mean that the sexy Abberline is not mine. I cry every night over that sad, sad fact.

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**The Dragon**

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Nobody knew what Abberline found when he went to the den. Nobody could understand the temptation of his mistress, luring him to her. No one in their right minds or even in their wrong ones knew why he kept returning, no one had the faintest idea. Abberline had been to see the Dragon many times in his life, and each and every time he had left knowing that he would return for that same adrenaline rush, which had him so addicted to her. The Dragon to him was a true entity, a spiritual being which for the moments he was under the tethers and constraints of the opium he could work with, he could see her, he could feel her. She was his spiritual love, a love which he would sacrifice anything for, even his life. No other could compare to her and whilst he knew he wanted to be with her and her alone, he knew that if he continued going to her in the means he so often had, he would be captured by her forever and he would never be able to do the work and fulfil the mission he had been sent to do. The Jack the Ripper case was important to him, and it was one that he knew only he could deal with efficiently enough to solve. Mary Kelly had come in then. She had become his mortal love away from the Dragon; she provided the solace that the Dragon gave him although it was lesser in quality and substance. Mary Kelly quenched his mortal thirst but she could never live up to the standards of the Dragon, for she was his one true mistress.

This mistress was one that Abberline knew he had to work for; he knew that he could not be with her without proving his devotion first. This was why she was so difficult to get to, being nigh on unattainable. This was why with every shaking intake of the smoke riddled with the sweet perfume of the opium Abberline's physical system was being demolished, this was why he knew he would probably, eventually cease to exist in this outer shell. He also knew though that once his outer form was abandoned he would be free to the mistress Dragon, he could be with her and at peace. This idea is what kept him working through the hours and hours of every day, searching for the clues to the Ripper case. He knew he could not abandon his work to be with the Dragon for too many people depended on him, too many lives were at stake and many had already been taken. Abberline knew he had to find the evil being behind these torturous murders, and he needed to find them soon.

As Abberline entered the opium den that he had frequented so many times before, he knew that tonight it would be his last. It had been eight years since Mary's supposed death, and they had been eight very long years. However the time passed though, Abberline could still remember her words from the letter, he had memorized them and kept them at heart, knowing that they were everything he was left with of his mortal love.

_'I know you asked me to wait, but if I am to be murdered then at least I am to die in my own village. I'm going to the orphanage to collect baby Alice, here's an address where you can find us. We'll wait for you eagerly. I know in my heart, we can be happy living by the sea, just as you saw. I hope to be with you soon, dearest. All my love, Mary.'_

Tonight, he would let himself be free to his true love, to his mistress. He had not visited in those eight years for the fear of the blinding visions which he had welcomed so many times before. Insights into the minds and lives of others. He did not want to see anymore, he did not want to know what was going through other people's minds, but the biggest problem of all was that he did not want to see Mary. He didn't want to see what she was doing for although he wanted to be sure of her happiness and safety, he felt reluctant to know that she could be that way without him. His life had been full of torment and turmoil, constantly wanting to be with her but knowing that he could not. Although Gull had been dealt with and no one was watching him he could not risk it. After all the trouble he had fought through to try to ensure Mary's safety, he couldn't jeopardise it now because of his own physical lusts. Tonight though those lusts and all lusts that had plagued him would be sated and satisfied, and now he could release himself to the Dragon's snare.

The want and need of his ultimate mistress had plagued him throughout those years, and many times he had been close to giving in. Many times he had thought that this was the end, this was the time he could leave the world behind and be with her. His work would come first though. Abberline was not a man to turn his back on people who truly needed him, and even through his harsh exterior it was plain to see that he was a man of great kindness, a man of great love and giving, a man who would suffer even the sickest and most twisted torture if it meant that he could save someone else from injustice. Abberline had worked every day of his existence since he found that it was Ada who had been taken by the Ripper and not Mary. He had worked to find some kind of justice in the world, trying to find something that would prove the human race to be a worthwhile species. He wanted to find that there were people worth existing, but as the years had passed by he began to grow weary of his search.

Every day he might find a new person in need of his help, someone in need of justice and kindness, someone who deserved it wholeheartedly, but behind that lay the person who was capable of such evils to render this person helpless, someone who made them seek out Abberline's services. Abberline knew he was looking to fight a battle that could never be won, and tonight he was giving in, he was giving up. The human race would not be saved whilst there were still people like Gull, Ferral and Kidney about. Although Gull had been detained there were so many other men in the world willing to follow in his footsteps, and there were also the men who were willing to cover up those same steps. People who believed themselves to be infallible and omniscient, to be gods amongst men. These were the people who Abberline detested. Men who weren't worth the clothes on their backs, not worth the air that they breathed.

As Abberline stepped down the steps into the familiar den he saw how it had fallen apart in the years he had not visited. The once calming atmosphere filled with ladies and gentlemen alike was now in a state of disrepair, and now only a drunken and intoxicated rabble of men loomed in the corners. The act of chasing the dragon, once reserved to the high elite and well-bred, people who had a distinct stature or class, a secret meeting place of pleasure, had now been lowered to the standards of all the louts that hung about on the streets. Abberline did not care any longer though. He was not to be spending much time here, and once he had fulfilled the act he would be free to be with the mistress whose company he had craved yet turned away from.

Although Abberline had given up on the dens and turned his back on the solid substance of opium, he was not able to fully relinquish his ties with his mistress. The absinthe served him well to help him escape reality, and with the slightest hint of the laudanum he could see the Dragon, although her beauty was veiled by the long green curtains of the absinthe. This had for those years been enough to keep Abberline sane, although he knew his lust for the Dragon went further than a fleeting glimpse. Although he could not touch her he could indeed see her divine beauty, he could hear her as she called to him in sweet, tender tones, telling him to leave the world of men and be with her. She would whisper to him as he dreamt of her lair where she would lay waiting, she would sing to him and haunt him, begging and pleading with him to be with her. Abberline's will was strong and whilst he kept himself under the illusion of saving humanity he had been able to ignore her dulcet tones. Her soothing lullaby which called to him through the night.

On cold nights without the company of the Dragon Abberline had slept restlessly, dreams of the body that had lain in Mary's bed haunting him, turning from the body of Ada to that of Mary. He would see Gull as he slashed at her, ripping the knife through her soft flesh, tearing her apart as the demonic rage engulfed him. These dreams possessed Abberline's mind through the nights more frequently towards the end, driving him to madness and confusion, a complete state of despair. He had indeed turned into the 'boring old bugger in the pub that no one wants to sit beside' as Godley had so efficiently put it. Abberline knew this and he knew that he was going to have to escape soon from the binds of life otherwise he would die an old man, never reaching the lair of the Dragon again. The need for his mistress was what ultimately drove Abberline to the den once more, this was to be his final mortal resting place, but elsewhere his soul would be free to be with the Dragon.

Abberline paid his way into the den and reclined as usual upon the mattress laid upon the floor. Placing the long pipe to his lips and lighting the small ball of opium, placing it on the end of the pipe, he sucked in the smoke that he had desired for so long. The essence of the opium filled his mouth, drifting down his throat into his lungs, rushing like a mad runaway train through his system. As he continues puffing, the soft smoky fingers of the dragon run over his body, sensually caressing his skin, soothing his senses. The rich perfume fills his nostrils, the familiar haze now beginning to take over his mind. He removes the two coins from his pocket and clutches them in his hand as he lies back on the mattress. The Dragons voice calls to him through the haze and fog, calling him to come to her. Abberline knows what lays in wait, he knows just what to expect, and he knows that now he is to be letting his mind and soul free from the restraints of their earthly vessel. Left behind is his body as his mind soars to the heavens, winding its way through the caverns and passages of the Dragons lair. Her misty voice seeming ever nearer as his vision becomes blurred and all his body's senses and reactions relax, enveloped by the soft tranquillity of the opium. His eyes flutter beneath their lids as he searches in his mind for the room where the Dragon dwells, where she awaits his arrival. Her song is becoming clearer, her voice sweet, luring him onwards, forcing him to keep gong, following the scented smoke that draws him further. Everything back on earth where his body remains has been blocked out, the earth it seems, has ceased to exist, and now Abberline is finding his way through some other heavenly place, his soul searching for the paradise where his mistress awaits.

The soft opium scented vapour, the scent of the Dragon, laces and weaves its way over his body. His senses alive, his body seems to actually feel the soft touch of the Dragon as she draws him towards her. He is close now and can even make out her silhouette in the distance though her beautiful figure is concealed from true sight by the long veil that he had come to associate with the absinthe. Now though that haze was lifting and he was beginning to catch the sight of her, the sight that he had longed for for so long, but had forbidden himself from finding.

Suddenly she turns and in the split second that he sees her his soul is ripped back to his body and his breath catches in his throat. There in front of him Mary-Kelly had stood, her icy blue eyes piercing and penetrating him through his mind, causing trembling shivers to quake through him. Abberline gasped for life although this was not to be seen on his physical form, and as he clutched at his throat begging for the sweet aroma of the Dragon to come to him yet again through the opium's smoke he knew that this was the end, the point of no return. As he gasped in breath in his spiritual form he caught the pungent smell of the bodies that he had seen and worked with, the rotting flesh and the soft scent of laudanum only he could detect upon their lips. He saw the faces of all the whores, Dark Annie, Liz, Kate Eddowes, Polly… all of them. His mind fills with their screams as the knife rips through their flesh over and over again.

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, the images do not fade but change to that of Gull. His pupils large and black, a fearsome tempest rolling across them, Abberline could almost see the way his mind was working. An evil spirit set inside his body, telling him what to do, possessing him and restraining him from all sense and reasoning. Abberline can see the thoughts fleeting through Gulls minds, the morose calculations, ensuring that the job is done well and properly. Through all the images the Dragons voice still calls and Abberline knows exactly what is happening. The sharp pounding in his chest, his heart beating so fast in the hollow cavity making it feel as though it was being squeezed by someone's hand, squeezing all his breath and life out of him. This is how it felt to die as blackness stopped the images from coming, a thick fog resting over his lids. Abberline's arms flail around him, trying to find something to touch, to cling to, something to tell him that this isn't all death is, a lonely black void where his soul will remain for eternity. As the pounding keeps going he loses the will to fight, the panic that had forced itself over him was now gone. The pain lessens and the fog starts to lift. Abberline opens his eyes, finding himself lying on a mattress on a floor. It is not only his spiritual self that sees, his mortal self opens his eyes and looks for the last time at the final resting place. His mortal self moves no more, the soft rise and fall of his chest stills and his breath is dead. A cold sweat that had formed across his brow remains, the only physical sign of his pain.

Elsewhere Abberline sits up, blinking at the lack of pain, the lack of the visions, the absolute tranquillity of his surroundings. A young woman walks towards him slowly, her eyes an almond shape, bright green and glinting, her hair long, raven black. Her lips are full and red and her skin clear though slightly pale. She smiles as he stares at her, wondering in faint recognition who she is, where he has seen her before. She sits down upon the mattress next to him and takes his hand in hers. He flinches at her cold touch, but as she draws his hand to her lips and smiles he slowly starts to forget about it.

'You're here at last.' She whispers, and in that moment Abberline knows the woman who sits with him. He looks around him and sees walls draped with fabric, black and green swathes of satin and silk. Gothic chandeliers hang from the ceiling filled with brightly lit candles that flicker, creating dancing shadows upon the walls. They are both seated upon a chez lounge, and before them is a large stone well. Abberline looks to the woman who he now knows to be his mistress and she stands, pulling him gently with her. They walk together in silence although there is a distinct sound of music drifting through the room, and peer over the edge of the well which is full to the brim with silvery liquid.

Abberline sees himself back in the den, lying upon on the mattress. He sees his eyes are open and his skin has lost its colour. He touches the water but it does not stir, does not ripple. Nothing happens as he draws his hand away and runs it across his own cheek, wondering whether he is as cold as he looks. He feels pleased to find that the warmth of the living still prevails inside him, and as he looks onwards into the pool he sees the image changing. He sees Mary standing by a cottage on a cliff. He can hear the waves as they crash against the shore and he can see a young girl running towards her. The child calls to Mary and she smiles. Abberline can't help but smile himself as he sees that Mary is happy and safe, and that she has indeed brought baby Alice who is no longer a baby but a young girl with long blonde hair like her true mother to live in Ireland. Abberline goes again to touch the pool as he sees Mary's face smiling at him, but again the image changes, back to the opium den where his body lies.

Godley enters and Abberline watches as he storms over to his body, calling to him to awake. He watches as Godley's realisation dawns that Abberline has gone, and he hears the words resonate around the room as he speaks.

'Goodnight sweet prince.' Abberline watches as Godley closes the eyes of the body before him and he instinctively closes his eyes himself. Even in this other world he can feel the cool surface of the coins as they rest upon his lids, and as he opens them once more the pool of water goes blank, a shimmering silver surface now showing. Abberline looks to the woman who had remained standing beside him the whole time and sees her palm outstretched to him. He frowns puzzled but places his hand inside his pocket and removes the two coins which have suddenly returned to him. He places them in her palm and watches her smile as she quickly blows on them and they disappear into the air.

'Now, sweet prince, are you ready?' she asks, her voice soothing and peaceful but with a glint of the danger that Abberline had always loved about the Dragon.

'Ready for what?' he asks, looking her over and knowing that he liked what he saw.

'To start living.' She whispers as she steps into him, tilting her head up to his. Abberline manages to nod though barely, now captivated in the woman's eyes as her gaze does not leave him. 'My prince.' She whispers before firmly claiming his lips with her own, and as Abberline loses himself in the kiss he realises that she is no longer cold. He is living now where he wanted to for so long, he is here with his mistress, the Dragon.

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Well, that's it! I hope you enjoyed it, I realise it was short but it is just a one shot, my views upon Abberline's death. I know people think that he died like a day after burning Mary's letter but you see the shot of Mary and Alice, and Alice has definitely grown up. Also Abberline's hair seemed to have greyed slightly, which is where I got the idea for eight years having passed. I hope you liked it and I appreciate all reviews of course so get going, pleeeeaaaaase!!! Ciao for now!


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